


Evading Capture

by Katlyn1948



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Arya is seventeen, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gendry is HOT AF, Gendry was always a brother, I made Hot Pie apart of the brotherhood, Not Canon Compliant, Some Canon, changing it up, premise is still there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-29 10:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlyn1948/pseuds/Katlyn1948
Summary: Arya evades the brotherhood, but fails and Gendry can't seem to keep his eyes of their captive.





	1. The Capture

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHA I can't believe that I actually wrote this bitch. I have like zero time and wrote this during my lunch break. This is THREE parts! That is it...no more, no less. I really don't have time for another WIP, so I have to finish it in three parts. Trust me when I say I don't know how I am going to, but I will figure it out. I mean, if someone wants to write the second chapter based off of what I wrote, go for it, but its all I have time for. I did this for you Valsore! I hope you enjoy it and I hope to get the second part up tonight.

She wasn’t sure how ended up in this predicament. She was sure to avoid leaving any tracks or evidence that her presence had evaded a space for long, yet somehow she was unable to thwart the band of bandits known as The Brotherhood.

For months, she has been slightly ahead of them, scrounging up all that she could leaving nothing for them to touch. She would pay a hefty price to the local innkeepers to keep at bay, even buying out the rooms if it was necessary.

It wasn’t as if they were bad men; in fact, most had joined The Brotherhood to run off other kinds of bandits. The kind that weren’t concerned for the wellbeing of others. No, the reason Arya was playing this cat and mouse game was because a price was on her head. They wanted to see her off to her mother and brother and reap the fortunes that would surly come their way. If Arya were to be sold like a brood mare, then she would have gone back to her family herself.

There was a reason to all the running. She knew that if she were to go back to her mother and brother, she would be wed to a Frey the moment her feet touch the very soil they were staying on. There was no way in the seven hells or the gods above that she would marry a Frey man, even if it meant being from her family.

Everything was perfect; for six moons, she evaded capture and when she felt as if they had finally stopped following her, she let her strong guard falter. That was her mistake.

Normally, he stay would last one night, two tops at the local taverns or inns. This time, she decided to say for three nights, divulging in the luxury of a lumpy feather bed. There were times, more often than not, that the cold hard ground had been the only place for her to sleep. Under the stars and the shine of the moonlight, she would stare at the vast world above and wished that her life were not what it was. It was a way for her to conserve what little funds she had and although the night was dark and full of terrors, she did not mind. But not this time.

This time, she was on her moon blood and had decided to sleep in a proper bed, not one made of mud and sticks. On the third day of her stay, she had risen in the early morn to bathe in the creek just downhill from the tavern. Bathing was a commodity and she would take in the sweet sensation of feeling clean whenever she had the chance, not to mention that her moon blood left her feeling filthier by the day. She wasn’t sure how long she waded in the cool summer water, but when she dried herself off, pulled on her clothes, and gathered her things to take back to the tavern, the sun was high in the sky.

Trudging up the hill towards the tavern, she noticed a few more horses than usual stationed outside. There seemed to be a group of dirty raggedy men packing up to leave, which is until they saw her.

“Oi!” One of the men yelled.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed a few familiar faces of The Brotherhood. In one swift motion, she threw her things on the ground and turned on her heel, running in the opposite direction. Her feet speed along the bumpy dirt, barely hitting the ground as she fled. She was fast, even The Brotherhood knew that and they had to go about a different way of catching her.

She huffed as she leaped over stumps and darted through the trees, trying her best to evade capture. There were a few times were the sound whistling arrows piercing the air hesitated her moves, but she kept going, nonetheless. One arrow narrowly missed her head, slicing her upper arm as it flew past her.

“We want her alive, you idiot!” She heard one of them say through the woods.

Voices were echoing all around her and she wasn’t sure which way to go next. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to outrun them forever, so halting in her tracks; she grasped the hilt of Needle and unsheathed it from her belt.

A snap of a tree branch caused her to turn to her right, where she was faced with an unfamiliar man. His hair was askew in all different directions and he fashioned a war hammer across his back, but the feature that caught Arya off the most were the astounding blue color of his eyes.

“Stay back!” She yelled as she held Needle tightly in her hand.

The man threw his hands up as if to show that he was no threat to her, “Calm down, milday. We don’t want any trouble.” 

“Then why have you been tracking me for months? You are a part of them. The Brotherhood. I know what they want to do and I won’t go! You’ll have to kill me!” She huffed.

Her eyes flickered around the tree line, watching the other men gather around her in a circle. They were watching her, seeing what she would do next. Her distraction was evident and her weariness gave him the opportunity to strike. Before she could even realize what was happening, he grabbed her wrist, twisting so that she dropped Needle and pinned her arm behind her back. She struggled to release from his grasp, but the point was moot considering his sheer size.

“Let go of me, you bastard!” She squirmed.

“How lady like.” He said smugly.

Arya grunted and threw her head back, hoping to reach his nose, but that plan failed miserably considering he was a whole head and half taller than her.

“Stop playing around, Gendry! Get it over with!” A man from behind them spoke.

She heard the man that was grasping her sigh, “I’m sorry.”

“What the-” her sentence was cut off when she felt a hard thump atop her head, causing the world around her to go black.


	2. Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya observes the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long to get up! I’ve been really busy, considering I’m trying to find another job. But that’s besides the point. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the chapter count has now gone to a ? well that’s because I don’t know how many it will take for me to finish this particular story. I’m trying my best to keep up with what I have, but it’s a lot. I am just grateful for the lovely kudos and comments on anything I write! It truly does keep me going. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Her head was throbbing and the mixture of voices surrounding her were all jumbled together in a big mess. Slowly, she opened her eyes and noticed the change of scenery around her. She was no longer in the woods, but rather on a horse, her back propped up again a firm chest. Broad arms surrounded her, grasping onto the reigns before her. She glanced down and noticed that her hands were bound at the wrists with a large rope, keeping her firm in place.

“I was wondering when you would wake.” The man behind her spoke. She tried to crane her neck to see who her riding companion was, but the ache in head prevented her from doing so. The point was moot; however, considering she distinctively remembered his voice. The man who knocked her out cold. 

“You shouldn’t have hit me so hard, then.” She countered, her voice dripping with venom. “Who does that? Knocking out a poor helpless woman!”

Arya heard him scoff behind her, “The last thing you are, milady, is poor and helpless.”

“How would you know?” She huffed, not expecting him to answer.

“Because you have managed to evade capture from The Brotherhood for the last…six moons? You also left a trail of bodies in your wake. Most of those men were twice your size, so I can safely say that you are not helpless. You are also quite the thief; pit pocketing, from what I heard, is a serious crime.”He chastised.

“Only if you get caught.” She jabbed.

A soft chuckle erupted from his lips and Arya could feel the rumble behind her, “You did get caught.”

She grumbled at his teasing, but couldn’t help feel bitter. He was right, she had been caught and now she was on horse with a man she hardly knew, being dragged back to her mother and brother, only to be married off to a Frey. No doubt Elmar Frey.

She’d only ever meet him once, during a time before the wars, before her father’s head rolled, and before she could openly wear breeches. There was a feast being held at Winterfell; for what, she did not know, and a few of the Frey’s had been guests. Arya couldn’t have been more than eight namedays when she met the little leech and had wanted to gut him then and there. He had the spine of a squid and believed that women were nothing more that brood mares to breed with. She hated that he could be a potential match for her and even more so that, if she returned to her family then she would undoubtedly become his wife.

That very thought kept her away, despite the ache she had in her heart for her family. She wanted nothing more than to run to her mother and brother and embrace them with all her might. She wanted to love them and hold them and never let them go, but that fantasy was moot, for her drive to be a free woman was more than that of seeing her family.

“I wouldn’t have gotten caught if I just kept to my plan.” She huffed as she wiggled her wrists to keep the rope from chaffing.

“Well, I guess it’s your fault then.” He said smugly. Arya grumbled and brought her elbow to connect with his rib, causing him to huff in pain. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she heard the obscenities coming from his mouth.

She really shouldn’t provoke him, but the opportunity was too rich and if she had to be stuck on a horse with him, then she was going to have a little fun. Although, she was sure there would be repercussions for her mischievous behavior come the near future.

The two rode in silence for a time and Arya could only observe the landscape around her. They were in dense woods, away from any main roads, no doubt to hide the fact that a rather large group of men had a woman tied up like a wild boar. Arya wondered if they were to ride through the night, as to make up some ground, but surprised that they decided to camp for the night.

The man halted the horse, jumping off with a loud thud. He turned to her and pulled off the mare, planting her feet to stand right before him.

“Gendry, is it?” Arya tried to recall his name from their last encounter. The process made her head throb as the pain from being knocked over the head with the butt of a sword lingered.

He grunted as a response.

“Right,” she arched her brow, trying her best to sound innocent. “Why don’t you loosen these ties so that I may be able to have a decent nights sleep.”

“Fat chance.” He scoffed. “If I let those loose it will be my head. Sorry, mi’lady, but you’re stuck with me until we get to where your family is.”

Arya’s head sagged in defeat. She knew the chances were slim, but she still had hope, and when the rest of the brotherhood were too much into their bags of ale, she would make a break.

It took all of a few hours for them to set up camp.

There were no tents, just a few thick blankets and a small fire to keep them from freezing in the chilly night. Snares were made and even a few hares were caught as dinner. Arya was used to eating strange things, especially while on the run, so the familiarity of something as simple as hare was welcoming. She gladly took a piece as it was handed to her. Albeit, she wished he hands were not bound so she could eat properly, but that didn’t stop her from devouring the poor dead animal.

The men around her were cheerful; boastful even, and completely oblivious to the fact that she was studying every single one of them. As the night progressed, she even began to learn their names. There was Anguy, a champion archer from the Stormlands. She was sure his arrows were the ones that had grazed passed her head when she was running from them. He would be tough to outrun, and Arya would have to be sure he was completely disarmed before trying to escape.

Then there was Thoros, a Red Priest dedicated to the Lord of Light or some stupid god that Arya had no business for. Of course there was a Lem and a Hot Pie. Arya had come to learn that Hot Pie was a former baker at an inn she was sure she had stayed in.

The there was their leader, Beric Dondarrion. She had heard of him; a lord just like her father. As to why he was leading a band of vigilantes was beyond her.

Lastly, there was Gendry. She already knew his name and every time she looked his way she couldn’t help but blush. He was handsome, she’ll give him that, but he was smug and stubborn. She couldn’t wait to ram her Needle straight through him.

They were laughing and enjoying the evening. Arya smiled at their stories and even laughed at the funny bits, but what they didn’t know was that she was observing everything they did, down to how they ate. She was no different to a wolf stalking its prey. She would escape, even if it meant she would die trying.


	3. The Failed Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya tries to escape, but something halts her plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll are lucky! It usually takes me several weeks to update a WIP, but I'm in a good mood so....and I already have the whole story planned in my head, so alls I gotta do is write it! I am hoping it takes only 6 parts to finish, but it just depends on what my brain wants to add to the chapter as I am writing it. Little inside: I don't plan out my chapters like a normal person. I don't have an outline or anything like that. Nope...I act out all my chapters before I write them. So, let me explain. I literally have full blown conversations with myself as these characters using dialogue. It is how I "plan out" my stories. It sounds weird, I know, but hey it works. I also voice myself doing this and use that dialogue in my stories. Think of it like a script. I say what the character says and then I will also explain what is happening in the scene. Basically I am audiobook script! LOL. Anyway, call me crazy, but it works! So enjoy and as always, happy reading!

The night was cold; more so than any other night that Arya had ever encountered in the Riverlands. It was a testament to what her family words were; Winter is Coming, and she was sure that it would grow colder as time progressed. This gave her an advantage to those that surrounded her. She had thick blood; that of a wolf and not even this lingering cold would hinder her get away.

She was right to assume that, as the evening drew on, the men around her would begin to divulge in their leather sacks filled with whatever alcohol they could get their hands on. Lem was the first to fall, slumped over a log as his mouth trailed drool down the side of his chin. Next was Anguy with his bow strapped securely to his chest. Hot Pie hardly drank and ounce and could chat the tongue off of anyone, so Arya was please when his eye lids began to droop with sleep. Thoros hummed as he lifted from in front of the fires, drifting towards his horse, and rolled out a dusty old blanket for him to lay his head upon. It took only a few short minutes for Arya to hear the soft snores escape the priest. Beric was the last to fall, trying his best to keep guard of the surroundings, but the lack of sleep and effects of drink finally caught up to the lord, causing him to drift his head back, mouth agape as he slept soundly.

Gendry stayed up, charged with watching the brush around them as well as keeping a studious eye on Arya. So long as he was awake, so would she. No sleep would come to her, so long as she knew on these men were awake.

“You look exhausted.” She observed as she watched Gendry’s head bob with slumber.

“Hmm, I am.” He confirmed.

Arya chuckled, “Then go to sleep. I’m sure Hot Pie could watch the camp. All he has to do is ring out, and you lot will be up within seconds.”

She could see Gendry contemplate the thought and was sure that he would agree to her dubious plan. She prayed to the whatever Gods would listen that he did, so when he reluctantly agreed she let a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Aye, he can, but you must stay beside me.” He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, a slight blush creeping to his face as he did so. Arya’s smiled faltered and her heart suddenly began to race.

“I-I don’t think that’s necessary. I can stay up with Hot Pie, keep on the lookout.” She hastily said. 

Gendry groaned as he lifted from his perch just beyond the fire, where the horses were being tied, “Sorry, milady, but no can do. If I sleep, you sleep. Can’t run the risk of you escaping.”

Arya watched as he strode her way, lifting her up from under her arms, until she was standing. He grabbed her upper left arm and guided her to the thick blankets that were laid out earlier in the evening, plopping her down with a thud. She huffed at his roughness and wiggled her hips to try to get the hard ground somewhat comfortable for her slumber. She leaned back, letting her back fall upon the hard ground, turning from where Gendry was walking to wake up Hot Pie.

She couldn’t see their interaction, but she could hear the soft whispers exchanged as Gendry asked Hot Pie to be a look out. His steps were unmistakable as she heard him make his way back to where she was laying. His presence was suddenly evading hers, and although he made sure to keep distance between him, she could feel his heat radiating, making her shift uncomfortably.

Arya couldn’t sleep, not only from her bound hands, but because of the anticipation of her eminent escape. Her mind was awake with ways for her sneak through the camp, all while trying not the wake the band of rebels. Scenario after scenario drifted through her head, each with subsequent consequences if caught. She was sure that her downfall would be the ropes that currently held her wrists in place. With such restrictions, she was sure to lose her balance and hurt some part of her body because she would not be able to break her fall. She tried on multiple occasions throughout the night, to wiggle her wrists free, but that only seemed to cause more harm than good. The action left her wrists raw and bloody, causing her wince in pain every time they chaffed against her skin.

The only other solution to her situation would be to steal the small dagger from Gendry’s side in order to cut herself free, but the action was risky. Arya had no inclination on how deep he slept, or if she would be able to reach the damned dagger in the first place. She knew it was placed on the right side of his hip, which he was currently laying on. She had hoped he would turn sometime in the middle of the night, but he didn’t and all she could do was bore holes into his head with her glaring eyes.

She huffed in frustration and turned so that her back was now facing him. She scanned the dark woods and noticed the slight glow of sunrise trying to break through the horizon. It was morning, and she had spent the better half of her night coming up with stupid plans that were sure to fail.

Watching the sky turn bright colors of yellows and purples, Arya gathered her courage. If she were to escape, she had to do while they were asleep; right before the sun had a full chance to awaken.

Pulling herself up with the sure will of her abdomen, she sat, observing her surroundings once more before jumping to her feet. She managed to keep her balance and even managed not to disturb the sleeping bull beside her. She scanned the forest edge, squinting her eyes to adjust to the low light the sky as emitting, and noticed Hot Pie drifting off to a sound sleep.

With this wonderful revelation, she took her chance.

She took a deep breath and kicked her feet from under herself, propelling them forward into a sprint. She had to be weary of the fallen trees that surrounded her, making sure she didn’t accidently trip over one of them. She darted passed the horses; only giving them a slight wind she brushed by. She was almost home free; away from the camp and away from The Brotherhood. All she had to do was clear the camp and hide herself in the densely wooded areas.

Her heart was pumping and the overwhelming feeling of excitement washed over her body like a blanket. She couldn’t believe that she was nearly there, the taste of freedom on her fingertips. Her footsteps seemed to float as if she was running on air. She made little to no sound, not even the deep breathes that were escaping her small body were enough to wake the sleeping giants. She could see, the line distinguishing the camp from the forest. Just a few more steps and she would be rid of them, but then her feet suddenly halted. Her head thinking about all she left behind.

She didn’t have much, maybe a few breeches and a jerkin. She had a water satchel and rucksack and a few oddities that she would be able to steal along the way. However, what she didn’t have were her reminders. She didn’t have the small piece of cloth ripped from Sansa’s dress. How she would cradle it at night and sniff the fine silk, for it still smelled of her sister. She didn’t have the piece of broken wood from her play sword that she used to train with Syrio, nor her Stark emblem clasp that held her thick cloak together from when she was in the north. She didn’t have Needle. The one thing that she had left of her favorite brother.

All of the small meniscal items were replaceable, but her sentiments were not.

It should feel stupid to her that simple little things left a huge impact of her life that she couldn’t leave them. They were costing her freedom, yet she had to go back. She would rather be a hostage than to even think about losing those close items. So, with a deep sigh, she turned on her heel and began to trudge her way back to the camp. She was no more than two steps in when she saw a large brooding body come barreling at her like a runaway horse.

His body collided with hers and they both went tumbling down to the ground, rolling a few good feet before halting. She struggled in his grasp, trying to wiggle her way free, but it seemed useless. He was bigger and stronger than she was and she would expel most of her energy if she tried to escape his unruly grasp.

“Will you let me go, you insufferable man!” She wailed.

“Stop trying to escape and maybe I will.” He huffed as he tried to still her thrashing body. His arms were square around her body and Arya could feel the tickle of his ragged breath on her ears. Taking the opportunity, she threw her head back, hearing the familiar crack as she did so. Gendry yelped in pain and released one of his arms from around her, giving Arya the room to escape his grasp. She turned in his arm and brought her knee to his groan, for good measure, causing him to yell in discomfort.

Rolling from him, she picked herself up and glanced down and the withering man. She couldn’t help but smirk at the way he had one hand clutching his nose and the other clutching his groan.

“Serves you right for tackling me like that!” She spat.

“What in the name of seven hells is going on here?” Beric inquired. Arya turned her head to notice the band of men making their way to where they were. She took several steps back from Gendry, allowing Anguy to grasp her upper arm so that she wouldn’t run off once more.

“Fuck! I think she broke my nose!” Gendry’s hand still covered his face, muffling his response.

“Good, I think you’ll look better with a crooked nose, anyway.” She grumbled.

Beric bent down to where Gendry was laying and swatted his hand away. He pinched the bridge of Gendry’s nose and bent it back into shape, not giving any warning to the young man as he did so.

“It’ll be fine.” He assured Gendry. Beric stood and turned his head towards Arya. “Now, please someone tell me what happened!”

She winced at the severity of his voice, and it reminded her of when her father used to reprimand her for doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“I-I had to take a piss, so I decided to do it at the edge of the camp. I didn’t want you all to see me!” She lied smoothly. Sometimes it scared her at how easily she could do it.

“And what about him?” He motioned to where Gendry was sitting.

“I’m walking back to camp, when I see this bull of a man hurl my way! Next thing I know, I’m on the ground trying to get away.”

“I thought you were escaping!” He countered.

Arya shook her head, “And how do you supposed I do that? My hands are bound, idiot.”

Beric sighed, “Look, it was a misunderstanding. Let’s all just get back to camp so we can pack up and leave. Anguy, change her ties, their rubbing her raw and Gendry, try not to get your arse kicked by a girl next time.”

Arya watched as Beric walked back to camp. She was guided by Anguy and gave Gendry a smug smirk as she passed.

“You’ll pay for this.” He grumbled as he pointed to his nose.

Arya shrugged, “We’ll see.”


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya apologizes and learns a bit more about Gendry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasn’t planning on putting this up today, but I caved and decided to anyway. I really hope to finish this soon, maybe even by the end of the week. I’m still planning on six parts, but since this is part four and I still have a bit of this story to tell, we will see. I do a lot of time jumps, so bare with me and I’m having fun with writing their flirting. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!

For three weeks, they did nothing but travel. After her failed escape, Arya had to reevaluate her tactics. Of course, if she wanted to leave, she could, but the idea of leaving all her mementos behind still lingering on her inner thoughts. Over the course of the three weeks, she was able to obtain the silk square patch from Sansa’s dress and her direwolf clasp. Her Needle, along with the scrap wood remained firmly tucked under Gendry’s belt.

Arya’s distaste towards the brooding man only grew as the weeks went on. Even Gendry seemed to distant himself from her. Of course there were times when they had no choice but to interact with one another, like when riding on his horse or when he changes her ties, but aside from the forced encounters, they remained separated and distant.

Arya found herself slowly liking the company of the other men.

Hot Pie was sweet, and would always offer his share of the meals to her before taking a bite himself. Lem was like Gendry when it came to distancing himself from Arya, but she found that he had a sense of humor and would enjoy the jabs and jokes he would make around the camp fire. She especially enjoyed Anguy’s company, for she got free arching lessons out of it. Of course, it was only for a few hours and afterwards, her ties would have to return to her wrists, but she didn’t complain if it meant those few hours of comfort. Thoros was a wise man and would constantly speak of prophecies and how many times he had actually brought Beric back from the dead. Beric reminded Arya so much of her father, that her heart would ache at times. She found herself lingering in his presence the most, if only to get that sweet reminder.

The idea of leaving the band of men tinged her heart, for she had grown accustomed to their company. It was strange that even though they were marching her down to her family to sell her off, she didn’t want to part from them. In a way, they had become apart of her family, even the stubborn bull of a man, Gendry.

It takes a lot for Arya to apologize to anyone and it’s not surprise that it takes her three weeks to do so. The group had stopped for the night and Arya was basking in the feeling of her free wrists. They seemed to trust enough to let her sleep comfortably during the night, although Anguy was such to keep a watchful eye on her.

Gendry was tending the fire, while Hot Pie and Lem were preparing the freshly caught rabbits for supper. Beric and Thoros had drifted off towards a little inn just a few miles from where they were camping for ale, not doubt. Unfortunately, they couldn’t bring attention to themselves, so the rest stayed behind in the cover of trees.

Arya pulled a light blanket from a satchel on the horse she and Gendry rode. It was a chilly night, and although her jerkin was enough to keep her warm, she wanted the added layer of protection. She shuffled her way to where Gendry was perched and took a seat beside him on the downed log. The fire was burning bright and Arya welcomed the added heat it provided.

Gendry seemed a little perplexed by her sudden proximity and shifted away slightly.

“What do you want?” He grumbled. He kept his eyes on the fire, doing everything in his power to keep his gaze firmly in place.

Arya licked her lips and sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Gendry’s head snapped up to meet her eyes. She could see the confusion swimming in his blue irises. It was strange that she hadn’t really seen his eyes before. She knew that they were blue, but in the glow of the fire, they almost looked purple. They were mesmerizing, so much so, she hadn’t heard what he asked.

“What did you say?” Gendry’s voice was that of true surprise. In the near moon he had known her, not once did he peg her for the apologizing type.

“What?” She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality.

Gendry sighed in frustration, “I asked you ‘What did you say?’”

“Oh, you heard me.” She paused, gathering her courage to say it again, “l’m sorry.”

“For what?” He returned his gaze back to the fire, trying to quench his pride from bubbling to the top.

Arya groaned, “Really? Fine. I am sorry for breaking your nose and kicking you in the balls. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

A smiled broke onto Gendry’s face and he couldn’t help the laughter that escaped his lips, “Yes! Seven Hells, the infamous Arya Stark apologizing! I thought I’d never live to see the day!”

He cackled, clutching his stomach while he bent over from the constant laughing. Arya grumbled under breath and she shoved him off the log they were sitting upon, “Oh shut it! I came over to apologize, not get laughed at!”

She lifted from the log and began to stalk her way back to where their horse was tied.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and lifted himself back onto the log, “Please, sit back down, I’m only jokin’...gotta have a little fun, right?”

Arya hesitated, but reluctantly sat back down beside Gendry. She glanced towards him and could see he was still letting out soft chuckles from their previous encounter.

“Yeah, I suppose.” She gathered the light blanket around her, bringing her arms up to hug her body. “It’s just...I don’t do it often, but I do when I know I’ve done something wrong. Look, between you and me, I was trying to escape that morning, but I was turning back. I...couldn’t leave.”

This surprised Gendry. He had a feeling that she was trying to escape, but the idea of her coming back willing, why would any sane person do that?

“Why? Why’d you come back?” He asked as he poked at the embers gathering below the fire.

Arya sighed. She wasn’t planning on telling Gendry any of this, but she figured if anyone would keep her secret, that maybe he would. She wasn’t exactly sure why she felt like she could trust him, especially since they nearly hated each other, but it was just a feeling that she had to trust him, so she did.

“I couldn’t leave my things. They are irreplaceable and I couldn’t bare parting with them. So I turned back.” She looked up at his face and noticed the confused look he had, “I know, I know...it was stupid, but I just couldn’t leave them.”

“Well, yeah it was stupid. But I get it.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a lacy handkerchief. It was white, or at least it used to be, and the lace edges had frayed a bit. Arya could tell that it was worn and old, and she wondered why Gendry would have such a thing.

“This used to be my mother’s. It’s the only thing I have of her. Kept ever since she died.” He explained and he handed the handkerchief to Arya.

She carefully took it and noticed the embroidered lettering on the corner. It was a N and H neatly stitched beside on another. She ran her thumb over the puckered stitching, smiling at the familiar feeling. Her mother had a handkerchief similar to this and Arya would always marvel at the intricacies that it obtained. She was never good at stitching and would remember all the times she complained about it, but she was thankful for the lessons, for she had to patch up herself a few times with a needle and thread.

“It’s beautiful,” she handed the handkerchief back to Gendry and he tucked it back into his pocket. “What was her name?”

Gendry smiled, “Nourah Haverty. She wasn’t a nobel, but she came from a well off family. She wanted to adventure out on her own, so she escaped to King’s Landing. From what I can remember her telling me, her father wanted her to marry some only fart, and she refused, so she left. Then I guess she met my father and had me, a bastard with no name but Waters.”

“Well, I don’t think that. You’re more than a bastard, Gendry. You may be stubborn and bullhead and a little insufferable at times, but you have more heart then any High born lord out there. Take it from, I would know.” Arya smiled.

She reached her hand over and placed it gently atop his, basking in the feeling at how shockingly soft they were. She didn’t know what possessed her to do such a thing, but she didn’t regret it. In fact, she liked the feeling of his hands in her and she strangely wanted more of it.

Gendry was taken by the gesture, but returned her small squeeze, thanking her for her kind words.

A few beats of silence passed between them when Hot Pie and Lem came to the fire to begin cooking the meats. Arya quickly pulled her hand away and tucked it back under the light blanket.

Gendry cleared his throat and continued to poke the fire, “Just because you apologized, doesn’t mean that I won’t get pay back for breaking my nose.”

Arya scoffed, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t tempt me, mi’lady.” A smug smile creeped onto his lips and Arya couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks. She gave him a small shove before rising from the log and rounding the corner to see if Hot Pie and Lem needed any help.

She tried to quench the sudden bubbles in her stomach, but found that the point was moot. This wasn’t part of her plan and she knew that if she continued her light conversations with Gendry was she would be completely fucked.


	5. The Start of Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya spends time with the Brotherhood and finds Gendry appealing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve realized this took me two months to update. I know, it’s been awhile, but I have not abandoned it, just been super busy with real life things. I want to fairly warn you that in the coming chapters there is will be a mix of book and show references, with completely made up story lines by yours truly. We are going to be getting in some really heavy stuff in the next few parts, so be prepared. I also want to clarify Arya’s age in this story. She is 18 and Gendry is 21. I really want to write her experiences growing up without a family during a very vulnerable time in her life...puberty, so we will see a bit of that. I mean, she’s been alone since her father’s execution...so maybe since she was about ten or eleven (in my story anyway) and what she learned were from word of mouth or working women (if you get my drift). Anyway, this intro notes are taking to long, so enjoy the chapter and let me know if you have any questions!!

The fire crackled bright as Gendry stirred the embers. It needed to be hot in order to cook the rabbits Hot Pie and Lem had prepared. Arya shuffled off to where the horses were stationed after her conversation with Gendry. Their exchange had made Arya see him in a new light. Maybe he wasn’t such an insufferable man after all.

In her last three weeks with this band of men, she had learned more about them then she cared to admit. It hurt to know that in just a weeks’ time, she would be with her mother and brother, no doubt getting ready to marry a man she knew nothing about. Although her first encounter with the men was less then memorable and left her with a hefty bump on her head, the following days on their adventure had turned quite pleasurable. 

Now with their mutual understanding for one another, Arya only wished that her time spent with Gendry didn’t mean uncomfortable glares or awkward silence.

If she was being honest, she quite liked her conversation with him.

There were no witty comments or jabs, just pure understanding. For him to open up about such a personal memory had to have been hard. Not even Arya could do such a thing.

It would take her mother days, if not weeks to get Arya to open up about anything that would be bothering her. If it weren’t for Jon, she probably would never tell anyone anything. But with Gendry, she found herself wanting to tell him the most personal things about herself. She wanted to let him know how she got to where she was, or why she was running away in the first place. She wanted him to know about her risky escape from the gold cloaks or her brief encounter with a Faceless Man.

It was odd, that a man she hardly knew had the ability to open up the deepest parts of herself.

Perhaps it was the way his blue eyes could bore into her grey ones, or his easy personality. His wittiness and sense of humor also had a way of bringing her in; but the true reason as to why Arya felt an ease around Gendry was that she understood him and he could understand her. He knew why she couldn’t escape; why she turned back.

It was a comfort to know that maybe, in this vast world of hurt and despair, that Arya found someone that made her feel like she was no longer alone.

“Hey, Arry! The rabbits are ready!” Hot pie yelled from where they were cooking the freshly caught game.

Arya smiled as she heard the new-penned name meant for her.

It was supposed to thwart wandering ears from hearing her true name, but as the weeks progressed and the boys started to use it more than her real name, it just stuck.

It was an improvement to ‘Lady Arya.’

The only one insistent on calling her anything but was Gendry. His ‘milday’ jabs were annoying and uncouth and were meant to rile her up.

“Thank you, Hot Pie.” She grabbed a piece of rabbit from his hands and she took her seat on the log beside Gendry.

“Is Anguy going to eat?” She asked as she watched the archer walk the perimeter of the camp.

Lem shook his head, “He’ll wait ‘til we all fall asleep. Since Beric and Thoros are at the inn, he’s in charge. Gotta make sure the camp is secure.”

Arya nodded as she stuck of piece of rabbit in her mouth to eat.

“How long do you reckon they will be at the inn, this time?” Asked Hot Pie.

Arya looked up from her rabbit and searched the eyes of Lem and Gendry, waiting for an answer. It seems this wasn’t their first time in divulging in cups of ale at the local inn, and Arya was curious to know how often they left their counterpart behind.

Gendry shrugged, “Depends, I guess. Last time they were there for a full two days. If we are lucky, maybe they will stay ‘till tomorrow night. It would be nice to rest for a bit.” 

“I can’t argue with you there.” Arya countered, gaining a small smile from Gendry.

She tried to keep her cheeks from flushing, but the point was moot. It would be easier to blame the heat from the fire for the sudden heat to her face, than the sweet smile that Gendry had thrown her way.

“Well she should divulge in the extra ale that we have, since Beric and Thoros are away.” Gendry suddenly said as he stood from the log. He took three big strides to heap of bags and blankets, rummaging through to find a sack of ale. The cool night breeze would have kept it cold, but Arya was sure that its fresh taste was no more.

He shuffled back to the log and uncorked the top of the sack, downing a large gulp. A burp escaped his lungs and a round of laughter erupted from the surrounding group.

“Pass that bag,” Lem grabbed for the sack and took his own swing. He handed it to Hot Pie, who respectfully declined.

Arya was no stranger to ale. In fact, it had become a favorite of hers along her travels. Each inn she had visited had a different tasting ale. Some were quite pleasing, while others tasted like piss, but they all offered her the same effects; the sweet sensation of euphoria. Like most men twice her size, she could get lost in her cups and if she wasn’t careful, she could wind up in a heft predicament. Luckily for her, most kept to themselves, leaving her to experience drunken bliss.

She gladly accepted the sack as it came her way, downing her gulps with ease. One would think she learned to keep her belches in, considering she was a lady, but in the company of men, she could care less who heard the burps that passed her lips.

A bout of laughter erupted from the men around the camp fire as Arya had no qualms about letting out befitting belch for a drunkard. She passed along the sack to Gendry, blushing slightly as his fingertips brushed hers as she handed it off.

“Didn’t know you could drink.” He said as he finished with his second gulp.

A sly smile creeped to her lips, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“I’m willing to learn.” He said genuinely.

Arya couldn’t help the heat that rose to her cheeks, whether from the effects of the ale or the way Gendry put off his cocky grin. She hated to admit that she was feeling something towards the man. It didn’t feel like lust, for she had lusted for a man at an inn nearly two years prior; no, this felt like something stronger, something much more primal. It scared her to think that she could actually be falling for someone. She was so unused to the feeling; so completely unaware of how it felt, that it terrified her.

She hadn’t spoken more than a few spats with him in her three weeks traveling with the Brotherhood, yet when they have a real conversation about real feelings and real people, she found herself lost in his words. She smiled at the thought but her heart wavered. In just a little over a week she would be sold off to her mother and brother, never to see the Brotherhood, or Gendry again.

Her smiled faltered just bit, but she refused to let anyone see her concerns.

“There’s a lot to learn. I hope you can keep up.”

“Don’t worry about me, mi’lady, I’m a fast learner.” He smiled once more and Arya realized that she was trapped by this mysterious man forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to clarify, the boy she lusted over two years prior was like a silly school girl crush. She hasn’t had any sexual experiences...yet. 😉


	6. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya starts to take notice in her feelings for Gendry and Gendry is left speechless. News travels back to The Brotherhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as promised, here is the next part! I am having fun writing this WIP and really can’t wait to see how it turns out in the end. I think I have a few more chapters lined up, so we will see how it goes. I know I promised “Paper Rings” would be out as well, but it is a monster of a chapter and is reaching well into 10,000 words so...hopefully next weekend. I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, happy reading!

A cool breeze whipped lightly across Arya’s cheeks. The tickling sensation of her hair sweeping across her face and awakened her from her sound slumber. It was morning, and the events from the previous night were blurred. She remembered the rabbit and ale, even an archery game that nearly took off Hot Pie’s head. The memory of laughter and smiles were quick to return, but her recollection of when she fell asleep was at a loss.

Arya realized that although her face had been exposed to the cool air of the night, the rest of her body was embraced in a warm comfort she didn’t remember having. Turning slightly, she noticed that her upper half was being pinned in place my a rather large brooding arm. Her back was against something hard, yet comfortable and she could feel the steady rhythm of breathing from the person behind her. But perhaps the most noticeable sensation was the bulge poking her in her lower back, undoubtably caused by the cool air surrounding them.

As Arya contemplated the possible ways to be released from this grasp, the events from last night slowly began to take shape.

After Hot Pie’s near death experience, thanks to Arya’s unsteady hands, he trudged off towards the base of the camp and plopped himself down on the ground for some much needed sleep. Lem wasn’t far behind, sober enough to put out the fires before drifting off into slumber. Arya remembered Anguy’s retreat to his post, where he was most likely slumped over with drool pooling out of his mouth. Finally it was just them, Arya and Gendry.

She remembered their brief conversation before settling on the blankets and drifting off into a dreamless wonder.

It made sense that Gendry would be the one embracing her. They had fallen asleep beside one another and with nothing but a thin sheet for warmth, he must have moved in his sleep, trying to find another source of heat.

Arya didn’t mind the company, but the ever present member digging into her back was becoming a little more noticeable, making Arya slightly uncomfortable.

She wasn’t oblivious to the needs of men and thanks to her brief time in a whore house, she learned a few things about the proclivities for sexual interaction. Albeit, she didn’t want to learn what laying with a man entailed from a working woman, but with her mother predisposed and her first moon blood nearing, she had no choice.

Her first years on the run were working as courier between the paying costumers and working women. It’s how she was able to stay hidden for so long, and the women of the whore houses kept her safe if need be. They never once let a man touch her and when her moon blood did arrive, they thought her how to say clean and how to care for it.

Of course there was one whore by the name of Giselle that suggested that they put her to real work. She nearly drove needle into her eyes, but thankfully the other ladies were there to stop her.

It wasn’t until a greedy man tried to put his hands on Arya, that she left the place and tried to find other means of earning coin and staying hidden.

She knew that perhaps her closeness to him during the night had prompted a natural reaction. She couldn’t say that she wasn’t flattered and that she had slight curiosity of what it looked like, or even perhaps what is felt like. But this was Gendry, he was her friend, was he not? Did she really think of him in that way? Did she want to know how his rough hands felt on her soft skin, or what his lips would taste like on top of hers? Did she want to see his ocean eyes graze her body, while her stormy eyes washed over his?

The questions lingering in her thoughts had caused a sensation to pool between her legs, something she had never encountered before. It was almost as if her flower was throbbing with need; a need for something more.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the newfound feeling, for Anguy had made a surprise welcome, waking everyone in the camp.

“Wake up, you lazy bastards. We have to get packed and ready before Beric and Thoros return.”

Arya felt Gendry shift behind her and she quickly pretended to still be asleep. She could feel him gently pull his arm away and pulling away from behind her. His sudden absence made her body shiver as the heat warming her body was no longer there. She grumbled as she pretended to wake and turned her body to see a now standing Gendry hover over her.

“Rise and shine, mi’lady. We have a long day ahead of us.” He reached out a hand for her grasp and she gladly took it. He pulled her with ease and she wasn’t prepared for the sudden pull, tripping into his arms.

“Still drunk, I see.” He joked.

Arya gave him a scowl and pushed him aside as she stumbled towards their horse, “You caught me off guard, is all.”

She rummaged through the ruck sack tied to the steed and pulled out a fresh jerkin. She only had two and the current one on her body smelt of old ale and fire smoke. She made quick work of her buttons, throwing off the leather jerkin and placing it back into the ruck sack. The end of her white blouse had become untucked, so she gathered the material and stuffed them back into her breeches, causing the blouse to be taut across her chest, allowing her erect nipples to pierce through the thin cotton.

She hadn’t thought anything of it as she pulled her clean jerkin around her upper half, fastening the buttons with haste.

Arya turned towards Gendry who had a fresh rope bundled in his hand and face so deeply red, she thought he looked like a tomato.

“I have to wear the ropes?” She whined as she crossed back to where he was standing.

“I-um...well...” He tried to gather a sentence, but his words were at a loss.

Arya looked at him with a confused grin, “What’s gotten into you? Finally run out of words to say?”

A snort escaped from Lem who was saddling up his horse for the venture ahead, “Fat chance! He’s got no words because of you.”

“Me? Why?”

“Not important.” Gendry suddenly said as he regained his ability to speak. “Just got caught off guard with something, is all.”

Arya slowly nodded as she reluctantly handed Gendry her wrists to tie. The binds where never tight, not like they used to be when she first was captured. She noticed how he would take special care to not bind them as close together, and make sure the ropes never dug into her wrists. It was a tiny gesture that did not go unnoticed, making Arya respect him just a bit more.

Once he finished with her ties, he helped her a top the horse, climbing up once she was secure on her perch.

His arms bellowed swiftly around her as he grabbed a hold of the reigns and trotted the horse to where the others were ready to go.

“Anguy, are we meeting up with Beric and Thoros?” Gendry asked.

Anguy shook his head, “Look behind you.”

Gendry turned his head and Arya follow suit, watching as Beric and Thoros galloped up the hill and behind the forest line, meeting them where they awaited.

There was a grim look on Beric’s face as he dismounted his horse. Without a single word, he made his way to where Gendry and Arya were and pulled Arya from the horse, cutting her ties. Gendry was quick to dismount, ready to strike Beric if he tried anything irrational.

“You’re free to go.”

“Beric, what is going on?” Gendry asked.

“Hush it boy, this does not concern you or any of us any more.” He countered.

Arya rubbed her wrists as she watched Beric return to his horse, “What do you mean? I thought you were taking me to my mother and brother.”

“We don’t need you anymore. Now go.” He said as he began to turn his horse.

“Wait! What is going on?” She shouted. “You needed me to get your coin, now you realize I’m not going to be worth enough! You are pathetic!”

Beric suddenly stopped and dismounted once more, trudging to where Arya stood, “I am letting you go to protect you, little wolf. Now go.”

“Protect me? From what?”

With a heavy sigh, Beric conceded, telling Arya exactly what happened.

“You’re mother and brother are dead. Killed at a wedding last week. Your wedding.”

Arya swallowed, “My wedding? What...”

“According to a source, who I can attest is telling the truth, your mother and brother were running out of time to find you. With it being nearly six years since anyone last saw you, they were able to hire a peasant girl to pretend to be you. From my understanding, she look a bit like you. Your brother was stupid and decided to marry for love and not abide by the contract set forth my the Freys, so the contract had to be fulfilled a different way. With you. In the end, they Freys found out your family’s deceit and killed them, along with all of your brother’s men. If I take you back there, they will either kill you or force you to marry a Frey. That is why I am letting you go.” 

Arya’s whole world shattered the moment Beric opened his mouth. The last remains walls of her foundation crumbled down as soon as the words left his mouth. Her hope to have some semblance of family was no longer a reality, but rather a crushing dream that would never come true.

Arya had lost all sense of balance, quickly feeling the gravity of Beric’s words pulling her towards the forest floor. If it weren’t for Gendry’s quick actions, she would have slumped into the mud beneath their feet.

It was a numbing feeling to loose everything and everyone you had ever loved, and with her pack slaughtered, she truly was the lone wolf she had claimed to be. But being alone, truly alone, had struck a deep feat within her bones that, for the first time in her life, she had no inclination on what to do next.

She was lost and broken, and despite the already empty feeling of loneliness, she could no linger stand to be around anyone.

The group of men surrounding her became suffocating. Gendry’s arms were no longer comforting, but rather they became traps that she desperately needed to free herself from.

Struggling to find her footing, she pushed his arms away and scrambled to her feet, letting then take her far from The Brotherhood. She could hear the faint shouts and yells coming from behind, but her mind was elsewhere, making their pleas foggy and distant.

The cool morning air swept across her face as she sprinted through the forest, completely oblivious to the multitude of tress wizzing past her.

Her legs took her for miles, until finally a inn appeared through he brush.

Mindlessly, she stumbled up to the entrance and dragged herself to an empty table. A bar maid had tried to make light conversation, but Arya gave her an icy glare, causing her to flee immediately. She grabbed the pitcher of ale from a near by table, filling a cup to its brim.

The bitter taste of ale swept past her lips and gilded down her ravenous throat, quenching a thirst she hadn’t realized she acquired.

With the growing need to forget, she continued drinking, allowing the familiar buzz take over body.

Arya knew what she was doing could be dangerous; she was a woman and she was alone.

Any one could easily take advantage of her, especially in her vulnerable state, but her desire to forget the events of today overwhelmed all rationality she was capable of producing.

For hours, she drank, not caring about her surrounding company.

Slowly, she started to drift, welcoming the sweet darkness to take her.


	7. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya awakes to find Gendry. Words are exchanged and promises are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two back to back updates in a row. I must like you guys. 
> 
> But the real reason. I had an itch for writing and gotta get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy and who knows, maybe I’ll update tomorrow?? 
> 
> Happy reading!

The sudden ringing within her ears was piercing. The noises surrounding her were billowing as she rose her head from the hard surface it laid upon. Rubbing her eyes to allow them to adjust to the bright light took most of her reserved energy that her body had possessed. She noticed that she was seated at a table, her drool staining the wooden surface from where she undoubtedly succumbed to the effects of the ale.

Most of the events from the day previously were wiped completely from memory, yet one thing still remained; her family was dead. Her efforts to forget were moot and the stinging words she heard Beric say still burned her heart. No amount of alcohol could make her forget that she was truly alone in the vast cruel world she lived in.

“I was wondering when you would wake up.” A voice had startled her and it took her a few moments to realize it had come from across her.

Arya blinked a few times to get the sleep from her eyes as the owner of the voice came into view. Gendry was perched across from her, a cup of, what she assumed was ale, nestled in between in hands.

“Gendry? How did you find me?” She asked a little groggily.

The effort it took to even speak made her head throb with pain, causing her to cradle her head in her small hands.

“Reckon you couldn’t have gone far. That’s when Beric mentioned the inn he and Thoros stayed at. Found you slumped over, with the pitcher of ale on hand and the cup in the other.”

Arya groaned. She hadn’t realized she had drank so much. The sudden realization hit that perhaps she didn’t do the smartest thing when it came to drinking alone.

“How much?”

“You owe me a three Silver Stags. One for the pitcher of ale, the other for your unfortunate housing and one for the bar maid keeping prying hands away while you drooled all over her table.” He stated as she sipped from his cup.

Arya could have thanked him. Should have thanked him. But her recent heartbreak had turned her mood sour, even with the crippling headache she had.

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have figured it out.” She snatched the cup from Gendry’s hands and downed the contents. She had expected ale, but to her utter disappointment, it was water. “And you didn’t have to come save me.”

Gendry frowned at her blatant disregard of common sense. And to think, she was the one to call him stupid.

“How would you have paid? And like hells you didn’t need my help! Who knows how long Rey could have held off men who wanted to take you while you slept your drunk off!”

Arya grimaced at his words. He was right, and she knew he was, but her rationality had left the moment her lips touched the cup of ale the night before. She was heated with anger, sadness, even a mild case of jealously at the fact Gendry already knew the bar-wench’s name. She could feel her cheeks flush and although she tried to keep her words restrained, she just couldn’t stop them from seeping out of her mouth.

“Know the bitch’s name already? You work fast. And how do I know that you aren’t here just to take me back to Beric? I’m sure my head will catch a fair price if you give it to the Freys! You lot would be swimming in riches.” She pushed out of her chair, letting is scrap across the wooden floor. With whatever strength she could muster, she stormed out of the inn and trudged to where Gendry’s horse was stationed.

Arya knew he would be right behind her, so she tried to make quick work of the knots holding the horse in place. Her fingers stumbled over the reigns as she desperately tried to untangle them, but with the lack of proper rest and the ale still coursing through her veins made the task nearly impossible.

She hadn’t realized the tears streaming down her face until she felt the cool drops fall atop her hands. Everything she had been feeling had finally come to fruition and she couldn’t help the sobs that racked her body.

She felt the warmth of a hand cover hers as they remained on the knots. She didn’t have to look up to know that Gendry was the one beside her; the one pulling her into his arms, gently cradling her as she continued to release her crippling emotions.

“Come, lets get you out of here before people begin to ask questions.” He softly said to her.

Arya nodded and allowed Gendry to gently move her hands from the knotted reigns. He swiftly undid the ties and climbed his steed, outstretching his hand for her to take. She took it willingly and climbed up behind him, grabbing onto his waist for support as he ordered the horse to move.

The two rode in silence for what seemed like forever.

But it was a comfortable silence, compared to what it could have been due to their earlier argument. Arya knew that her words had stung, and she immediately regretted them as soon as they left her mouth. She hadn’t meant to hurt him; he was her friend, the only true friend she has ever had, and she hurt his feelings. She knew she had to apologize, and she hated doing it. Yet she came to realize that she was doing a lot of apologizing when it came to Gendry.

“I’m sorry.” She said reluctantly. “Again.”

Gendry sighed, “I knew you didn’t mean it.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have said it.”

“You aren’t in the right mind right now, Arya. I’m not mad at you and I get why you said it.”

She stiffened as his use of her full name. He hadn’t called her that ever, not when he knocked her out when she was first caught or when he tackled her to the ground for escaping. It had always been ‘Arry’ or ‘mi’lady.’ She wasn’t sure how to take his use of her name; if it was a good thing or bad thing. He hadn’t sounded angry; perhaps a little annoyed, but definitely not angry.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. I was angry and emotional and jeal-” she cut herself off before she could reveal her jealous nature to him. It was a close call, and one she wasn’t ready to answer. She was still uncertain of how she truly felt about Gendry; if perhaps he was more than a friend, but less than a lover.

It was all so confusing. He was so confusing. And with her already heightened emotions, the last thing Arya needed was the prospect courtship that will never happen.

She shook her head, trying to get all thoughts of Gendry out of her head; which proved easier said than done. It didn’t help that she had to clasp her hands around his waist just to maintain her balance on the trotting steed. She tried to ignore the way his muscular frame felt beneath her fingertips, even with the barrier of the cotton shirt he was wearing.

Arya tried to think too much of the interaction, but the longer they stayed on the horse, the more she found her thoughts wondering to how much she missed the feeling of his body pressed up against hers and how, if she shift just a tad closer, her front would be pressed to his back.

She found it a welcome distraction, easing her mind off the loss of her family.

It was still heartbreaking, but Arya found it easier to grieve someone when they were already lost to her to begin with. It was the idea of never truly returning to Winterfell that broke her heart. Or the fact that her family would never be whole. Did the deaths of her mother and brother pain her heart, of course, but she hadn’t seen nor heard from them in six years. She had already come to terms with never seeing them again long before their demise.

Arya wondered if Sansa had heard of the news. She was still under the Lannister’s watchful eye, but no doubt would they hear of the Stark’s misfortune. News like that never stayed in one place.

Perhaps she felt what Arya felt; alone in a world full of people.

“Why did you do it? Act so careless?” Gendry suddenly asked.

“I-I didn’t want to feel anymore.” She confessed. “I wasn’t thinking about my safety; that wasn’t important. They only I wanted was to feel nothing. To drown it all out.”

“I was scared that you would do something stupid. I tried to run after you, but your legs were quick and I lost you. Beric called me an idiot, but suggested that you may stumble across the inn that he and Thoros were at, judging from the direction you ran.” He huffed.

Arya was grateful that, while on a horse together, she was behind him. He wouldn’t be able to see the tears stream down her face. She had acted careless. She wasn’t concerned for her wellbeing, let alone anyone else’s. If she were lost to the gods, so be it, no one would miss her, at least not in this world. It’s why she was so blatantly disregarded all common sense.

Why did it matter if she slipped into a slumber she could never be awakened from? No one would care if she were gone, for they already thought her dead. Her sister or Jon wouldn’t grieve and maybe she would be able to see her father again. The choice was simple, yet instead of running herself with a knife, she drank and drank until she could no longer consume, opting for a drunken night to take her instead of death.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just needed to...get away for a bit.” It was lie and one she hoped he would believe. She didn’t want to let him know the real reason for recklessness, at least not yet.

“Just don’t do it again. At least not without me. Promise?”

Arya nodded, and in a soft voice she whispered, “Promise.”


	8. Unspoken Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry find a place to sleep and talk about the real reasons as to why she went to the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...I wasn’t planning on updating to tonight, but I finished earlier than I thought. This chapter is longer than any other chapter in this story and is perhaps one of my favorite. There are a lot of emotions in this one and a lot of ups and downs. I hope you all enjoy it.

They trotted down side roads and paths, keeping away from the main trail.

Arya was unsure of how long they rode, but her thighs were beginning to ache and her head was beginning to droop with sleep. The upside about Gendry steering the steed, was that if she were to nod off, then his back would make a good place to lay her head.

With the sun beginning to creep down, Arya hoped that they soon would find a place to lay their head.

A few more hours had passed and Arya had finally succumbed to slumber, the steady gallop lulling her to sleep. She dreamed of nothing, just a vast emptiness with nothing but darkness. It was a stark contrast compared to her dream during her drunken stupor. She had saw her family; their faces flashing across her eyelids, to fast for her to process. It was harrowing, and she remembered how she tried to will herself awake, unable to due to the effects of the ale.

But this slumber was welcoming, even if it was interrupted by a gentle shake.

She slowly opened her eyes, and lifted her head from Gendry’s back.

Their steed had stopped and there in front of her was a house. Or perhaps a shed, or maybe even a stable. Whatever it was, seemed inviting enough.

“Where are we?” She asked, slightly confused by the stricture facing them.

It wasn’t large. One could hardly call it a house. It was more of small stable meant for a farmer to store his goods, or a stable boy to sleep in.

“It’s a safe house.” Gendry replied as he marveled at the thing. He had a sense of pride about the abode, reveling in the common comforts that it could provide. Since their departure from where they first found Arya, he had been anticipating their journey take them this far so that he could have at least one night of proper sleep.

Gendry chucked himself off the steed they were riding, outstretching his hand for Arya to take, but she politely declined and threw her leg over the horse, landing on the soft grass with ease.

“A safe house?” Arya seemed perplexed by the term Gendry has used.

Not once in her entire existence had she heard ‘safe house’ and it has her wondering exactly what it was.

“Yeah. It was my idea. The Brotherhood travel through here a bit, and so I reckoned that we needed somewhere safe to sleep when we did pass. The farmer here was more than willing to offer us the stable, and in return we keep bandits off his property.” He let out a toothy grin, proud to have shared his accomplishment with her.

“So, a farmer lets a band of bandits stay in his stable, in exchange for protection?” She asked as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

“Not just for protection. We do pay the man and his wife.” Gendry looked up from Arya’s perplexed face and stared off behind her. “Speaking of, here he comes.”

Arya turned and saw a short scrawny man with a straw hat and short breeches trudge through the tall grass. She saw, what she assumed to be his house, off in the distance with pillows of smoke fuming from the chimney. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic to see Gendry standing by the stable, with his wide grin forming on his face.

“Gendry, my boy! How have you been?” The farmer asked as he embraced Gendry’s large frame. He seemed to disappear in Gendry’s embrace, completely swallowed by his muscular arms.

“Harry, good to see you. How’s Helena?”

“The wife is good. Cookin’ up a mean stew for you and...well, where’s the rest of ya?”

Gendry shrugged, “Probably still a days ride away. I would send a raven to see where they are, but don’t know my letters from my numbers.”

Harry, the farmer waved dismissively, “They will be fine. Sure they are caught up with something and will be here by the morn.” He paused, slowly glancing in Arya’s direction.

His eyes were questioning and Arya was sure they flickered between she and Gendry a few too many times. It was like she was being interrogated without the use of words, causing her to shift uncomfortably.

“And who is this lass?” He finally asked after he gathered what information he could just from her face.

“This is—well, this...I—” Gendry stuttered. He frantically looked at Arya, hoping she would save him from utter embarrassment.

“I’m Arry.” Arya introduced.

“Arry?” The farmer huffed, “Interesting name for a girl.”

“It’s short for Arianne.” She smoothly lied, never faulting her face to say other wise. The farmer seemed to take her lie, and although there seemed some hesitance, he smiled and nodded in acceptance.

“Well, Arry. I’m sure my wife can set up a cot for you in our spare bedroom, if you prefer.”

Arya blushed, “Oh, that won’t be necessary. Gendry is a gentleman. In fact, the whole brotherhood are. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if ya change your mind, come knocking.” He offered before tipping his hat. “Helena, my wife, should be bringing by some stew later on.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Gendry smiled.

The farmer bid his goodbye, shuffling back to his house in the distance.

“Come on,” Gendry gently placed his hand on Arya’s arm, ushering her inside the stable. “Let me show you around.”

She turned into his touch and allowed him to bring her inside the small stable. It wasn’t anything grand, but would suffice as a stable roof over their heads for the night. There were five cots, just one shy of having enough for the whole gang of men. Arya wondered who picked the short straw to not have cot and sleep on the rough wooden floor.

The cots were all nestled one one side of the stable, away from the door, and on the other was a table with three chairs and an unfinished game of cards.

“We had to leave in a hurry the last time we were here.” He sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “A group of mercenaries were rolling through, and we did not want to fight with them.”

“Well you lot were lucky to get out alive.”

“Just barely, but yeah, we were.”

Arya rounded the stable, taking in the small confides as she did.

“Take any cot, the others won’t be here til tomorrow, I reckon.” Gendry said as he threw the satchel from the horse onto the cot farthest from the door.

“And if they do?” Arya countered, taking the cot across from his.

“Then Lem and Anguy will have to deal with the floor.” He chuckled.

The pair made light conversation as they watched the sun slowly set below the horizon, casting golden rays of soft light to peak through the cracks of the stable doors. Gendry had lit a few candles that were stashed around the stable, allowing small amounts of firelight to flicker across the darkening corners.

The farmer’s wife, Helena, had stopped by not long after Gendry and Arya had settled, to drop off bowls of hare stew for their evening meal. The hare didn’t compare to that of Hot Pie’s, but Arya enjoyed it, nonetheless. Although she hardly tasted the stew, as she quickly shoved chunks into her ravenous mouth. She hadn’t eaten since the night before her unfortunate departure, leaving her stomach grumbling with hunger. 

“Helena makes some of the best stew I’ve ever tasted.” Gendry mumbled as he shoved a piece of bread into his already full mouth.

Arya nodded, “Yeah, she does make good stew, but I can make it better.”

Gendry looked up from his bowl and eyed her carefully, “You cook?”

“Yeah,” She said casually as she took another piece of hare. “The whores taught me when I used to live with them. How’d you think I survived all those years on the run? I couldn’t afford to eat at a tavern or inn every night.”

Arya looked up from her bowl when she didn’t hear a quippy remark come from the brooding blacksmith across from her, “You surprised?”

“I am, actually. I learn something new about you every day.” He confessed.

Arya smiled lightly, dropping her head down to conceal the blush rising to her cheeks.

The remainder of their meal was enjoyed in silence, aside from the occasional moan from Gendry every time he stuck a spoonful of stew in his mouth.

She paired the stew with a few glasses of water, careful to keep away from the pitcher of ale Gendry had set beside his feet.

She did not want a repeat of last nights events, no matter how inviting the copper liquid seemed.

Once the stew was washed completely from their mouths, they set the bowls on the table, returning to their respective cots.

It has been a long day of riding, leaving Arya’s muscles aching. Her misadventures from the previous night did little to help her exhaustion and she could feel her mind start to slip into nothingness.

“Why did you lie to me?” Gendry suddenly broke the silence, thrusting Arya back to the present.

She had captured his daunting question and her heart began to quicken. She had hoped he wouldn’t have figured out her lie about the reason she was at that inn. She thought the simple explanation of needing to get away, would quench any questions he may have had. But here, in the small confines of the stable, he had figured out her deceit and he wanted to know the truth.

Arya quickly rose from her cot, throwing her feet over the side and striding to the farthest corner away from where Gendry was laying. She needed distance from him, enough to gather her thoughts and form coherent sentences. She could feel the panic set in, and she had to breathe to ease herself.

“I—I...” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.

Her hesitance had made Gendry rise from his cot. He was sitting now, just watching her as she began to pace the corner.

“Arya.” He whispered.

She stopped, pulling her gaze to his.

That was the second time he had called her by her name. Not ‘Arry,’ not ‘mi’lady,’ but ‘Arya.’

“Are you angry with me?” She asked harshly.

Gendry’s eyebrows creased with confusion, “What? Ary-”

“Because that is the second time you have used my name.” She interrupted.

She could feel the heat rising to her ears as frustration and anger washed over her.

“Well, that’s your name! What else do you want me call you?” He huffed from where he sat.

“Arry or...or mi’lady! Not ‘Arya!’ It makes me thing you are mad at me.” She threw her hands up in frustration.

Gendry sighed, “I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. Maybe a little annoyed or frustrated, but never mad, Arya.”

“Then why did you call me Arya?” She whispered, her voice so small Gendry could hardly hear it.

“Because that’s your name and that’s who you are. You’re Arya Stark, of Winterfell.” He smiled.

Arya’s breath hitched as she nearly came undone by his affirmation. She was Arya Stark of Winterfell, and she nearly had forgotten it. The events in with the last few days had broken her down, to the point where she no longer wanted to live. She could no longer keep this to herself, because if she did, the parts of her that were Arya Stark would fade away, and she couldn’t loose herself too.

“I wanted to die.” She finally confessed. “I wanted everything that hurt to go away and I thought that I could drink myself to death, or at least hope that I could.”

“Why?” He asked softly.

Arya could no longer keep the tears that threatened to spill contained. She felt as the salty beads rolled down her cheeks, hitting the wooden floor beneath her feet.

“Because I have no one. My entire family is gone! I watched as my father’s head rolled. Jon is lost somewhere beyond the wall, and the Lannisters are holding my sister captive. No has seen by younger brothers for years and Robb and my mother are dead. I have no family!”

Small sobs racked her body as she finally admitted truth to herself. She was alone, with no one left to love her.

Gendry crossed the stable towards her, just stopping a few inches from where she stood, “That’s not true. I can be your family.”

His words echoed through her ears. At that moment she let her delicate facade falter. Every stone she had laid; every brick it took to build up her wall of secrecy had shattered. And although they were still words, the meaning behind them meant so much more. She knew what he was asking; what he wanted, and she was more than willing to give it to him.

There was an undeniable force between them that she could no longer ignore. He had been able to do what no one else could; see behind her lies and look straight into her soul.

Arya could no longer deny the feelings she had felt for Gendry and in one swift action she jolted, throwing herself into his arms and crashing her lips onto his.

She had expected them to be rough or cracked, but they were surprisingly soft as they moved against hers. There was a saltiness to the taste of him, almost as if he had lingered in the sea for just a tad too long. But there was a sweetness that clashed with the bitter taste. The sweet taste was foreign; nothing like Arya had ever tasted. The concoction had pulled her in deeper, drowning her in Gendry’s embrace.

Cautiously, he slid his hands under her loosened jerkin, gliding them up and down her torso. His thumb softly traced the puckered scars that scattered her abdomen from her unfortunate run in with a faceless man. She was grateful for the lack of questions he was sure to have, for those questions were for another time and another day.

As his hands slid further up her body, Arya felt the familiar feeling between her legs that had introduced itself when she laid beside Gendry just a few days before. But this time it was warranted and welcomed.

Arya feels Gendry’s hand brush slightly under the curve of her breast, making a shiver run down her spine.

“Do... do you want me to stop?” He asks breathlessly as he parted from her lips.

“No... don’t.” She whispers into his ear, tickling the hairs around it. She wanted him to put his hands on her breasts...and he does, caressing them with the perfect amount of pressure. The sensation of his calloused fingertips dancing light across the milky mounds, flicking her erect buds nearly drove her mad.

Arya wanted more and the clothing between them became suffocating. Pulling from his embrace, just slightly, she began to loosen the ties of her jerkin even more, tearing at the bottom buttons that held in place. Gendry’s hands disappeared from under her clothing to help her pull the jerkin over her head. The white cotton shirt she wore under her jerkin felt sticky on her heated flesh and she wanted nothing more than to tear off her body.

Gendry must have seen her wanting and began to lift the cotton blouse, revealing herself nearly completely.

Arya shuddered at the cold air that hit her already taut nipples, eliciting a soft moan to escape her parted lips. This only fueled the hunger that Gendry had as he pulled her into his arms and captured a nipple into his heated mouth.

Arya gasped as he swirled his tongue round her sensitive nub, flicking it ever so slightly to make her whimper in pleasure.

Everything he was doing to her body was all so new to Arya.

She never thought she would ever let a man get close enough to touch, let alone make her quiver with uncontrollable ecstasy.

This was nothing how the whores had described a coupling to Arya. Every time they would explain the intimacies between a man and a woman, they made it sound unpleasant or obligated. This felt like neither.

Arya wanted this. She wanted him craving her body, just as much as she craved his. And although the idea of losing her maiden head had scared her, she wouldn’t want it to be anyone by him. This was something that both wanted—needed and she be damned if a bunch of misguided lies would tear her away from him.

Gendry finally released her nipple from his mouth, leaving it glistening in the soft glow of the candlelight.

She pulled his head to hers and placed gentle kisses along his jaw, traveling down until she rested her lips on his pulse, nipping slightly at the skin. “Take off your shirt.” She whispered, “I want to be with you, completely.”

Gendry complied and pushed away from her to bring his shirt over his head.

They sat there for a bit, with Arya nestled on his lap, just basking in each other’s glow.

Slowly, Arya leaned back into the small cot, pulling Gendry to hover over her. She began to pull at the ties of his breeches, pushing them down over his waist until they reached just below the curve of his bum. Gendry shook them off with ease and tossed them aside. He stood slightly, just enough for Arya to see him completely. Her felt her cheeks grown hot, as she was sure they were a deep shade of crimson.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen a man’s cock before, just not one so large or...erect, nor one that would be hers.

Gendry bent over slightly, brushing his fingers over the ties of her breeches, unlacing them with such ease. Slowly, he pulled them down, exposing Arya fully.

Their eyes meet, and Arya’s breath quickens.

She sees something spark between them, some deep understanding that didn’t require words.

He hovers above her, gently stroking her cheek as he searches her face for any hesitation. But there isn’t any, and as she gazed deeply into his ocean blue eyes, a new wave of pleasure hits as Gendry’s hips thrust forward.

Arya gasps at the sudden intake, and it takes her a few moments to adjust to the invading party between her thighs. Gendry is careful with her, a doesn’t move an inch until he feels her relax beneath him. Soon, everything fades away until all she can feel is their entwined bodies, fitting perfectly together, pulsing as one.

As they find their rhythm, Arya begins to feel a bubbling sensation within her abdomen growing with each added thrust of their bodies. She can feel her breath hitch as she can no longer contain the deep guttural moan that escaped her body. The new wave of pleasure plummets her into sweet carnal bliss, and as she clenches her walls around Gendry’s thrusting member, she knows that he, soon, will be plummeting with her.

With their heated bodies and growing frenzy, their bodies begin to pick up pace.

Arya can hear the soft grunts Gendry makes in her ear, and soon they lose themselves in complete ecstasy; Gendry spending himself within her.

They come apart, each with rapid breaths and thumping hearts. Their sweat littered bodies stick to the cot beneath them. Arya curls her body beside his, welcoming his arms as they enveloped her small frame.

No words were exchanged, just ragged breaths that turned steady as slumber dove them into blissful darkness.


	9. A Ludicrous Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry pillow talk. A plan is made and The Brotherhood arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my fellow readers, I have updated! 
> 
> This chapter literally picks up where the last one left off and it is basically all pillow talk. It’s not so much fluff, because they do get into some intense conversations, but its still pillow talk because their naked, in bed (its a cot) talking. 
> 
> I also explore some of Arya’s deep feelings. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy 
> 
> Also I would like to mention that his WIP is coming to a close. I have to say there is probably four or five more chapters left until it’s wrapped. I am going to be so sad because it has become one of my favorites. 
> 
> But enough talk about endings, lets just enjoy what we have right now!

Arya was warm, really warm. The warmth encompassing her small frame shifted slightly, allowing cool wisps of air to coat her back, causing gooseflesh to spread throughout her body. She shivered slightly as she tried to bring the missing warmth back to her exposed body.

The events of the previous night were beginning to reemerge to her waking mind, causing the corners of her mouth to tug upward. There was a slight ache between her legs, a reminder of the pleasures her body had experienced just a few short hours ago. It was an interesting ache, one she welcomed and hoped to experience more than just this one time.

She hadn’t expected last night to happen.

Arya had ignored her budding feeling for the brooding blacksmith, and when she finally broke, she wasn’t expecting him to be there like he was. He understood her more than she cared to admit, and that scared her. For people who cared about her often ended up dead.

It was a grim thought to be having, considering her mind was clouded with the intimacy she had just reciprocated to a man she trusted completely. But she’d be a fool to not think about the possibility of what could lie ahead. Just a few days ago, her mother and brother were alive and well, preparing to deceive a grotesque lord in order to secure a passage essential to winning a war. Now they laid dead; killed by men during a wedding, as they were too cowardly to do in on a battle field.

Arya realized that life is not guaranteed and that protecting the people she loved would prove a challenge, even for herself.

She had to protect Gendry, for she knew that if she were to lose him too, then her world would truly be shattered beyond repair. He was now her family, and not because of some spontaneous coupling in a worn down old shed, but because he listened and cared for her when no one else did. He came to find her during her drunken stupor, making sure that she didn’t do anything stupid. She knew that Beric and others, although they grew fond of her, would never had done the same.

Gendry was a different breed of man, the type one must grasp onto and never let go.

And that is what Arya had done.

She sunk her claws deep into him, claiming him as her own, never to let him go.

It was a scary feeling to be so close to someone in such an intimate way, and the whores she had mingled with when she was younger never once described the euphoria that erupted through her bones as she came with carnal bliss. No, she knew that that feeling only came when one gave their heart away completely, entrusting it with someone who knew how to take care of it.

That was Gendry for her. Arya knew, from the moment he said that he could be her family, that he was her mate for life; bonded together until death were to part them.

The thought made Arya chuckle. She had grown up listening to Sansa’s sweet words of love, hoping to find her knight in shining armor. The silly banters had often made Arya gag at the thought of being ‘swept of her feet.’ If she were a damsel in distress, she’d rather try to save her own hide, then waiting for some ‘dashing’ prince to save her.

And although Gendry was no prince, he had done exactly that.

Not in the sense of fighting off dozens of men to win her honor, but by putting the pieces of her broken heart back together. If she didn’t have Gendry, Arya was quite positive she would have ended up dead, so that she could join her family in the afterlife.

“What’s so funny?” The sudden rumble of his chest, as she laid atop him, had startled her. She was so caught up in her thoughts, that she hadn’t realized Gendry had woken from his slumber.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she dismissed. “Just thinking of a distant memory.”

“Care to share?” He pressed.

Arya let out a brusque laugh, “My sister Sansa used to believe that a knight in shining armor would come to sweep her off her feet and she would be madly in love. I thought the ideas absolutely ridiculous and that love was just a ploy to trap women into marriages, so that they could produce babes for their husbands. Now, I realized that my idea of love was wrong, because you would never trap me.”

Gendry smiled, “And I’m not a knight.”

“No,” Arya chuckled. “You’re a blacksmith and a bandit, which is so much better.”

“I was a blacksmith first, and well, the bandit part was more out of necessity than choice.” In the months they had spent together, this was the first time Gendry had ever mentioned his involvement with The Brotherhood. Arya knew he seemed apprehensive around the lot, but she hadn’t realized it was because he didn’t choose to be with them.

“How do you mean?” She pushed herself up and propped herself a little more on his chest, so that she could see his face. She was curios, and aside from his tellings of his mother, this was the first real thing Gendry had opened up to her about.

Gendry gave a long sigh, “Well, as I recall, there was chaos in the capital after your father was executed.”

“You were there?” She interrupted

“Yes, I was. Now, I thought all the chaos was caused by your father’s execution, but come to find out that Prince Joffrey had ordered several other executions aside from that of your father’s. Apparently, there were bastards of King Robert’s roaming about King’s Landing. Joffrey ordered the Gold Cloaks to kill every last one of them.”

Arya was beginning to put the pieces together in her head.

With King Robert dead, Joffrey was afraid that any one of his bastards could claim the throne. Especially some older, especially someone like Gendry.

“You’re King Robert’s bastard.” It wasn’t a question, for Arya knew.

Gendry slowly nodded, “Aye, I didn’t tell you when I told you about the story of my mother because I was still waging to see if I could trust you.”

There was a pregnant pause between the two of them as Arya let the revelation of who her blacksmith really was.

“I reckon it’s what got your father killed. I think he knew that Joffrey and his siblings weren’t Robert’s. He actually came to see me when I was workin’ at Mott’s back in King’s Landing.” He confessed, perking Arya’s ever growing interest in her lover’s past.

“What? Really? Why?”

“I think he was starting to put everything together. Asked if I knew my father and all that. Told him the truth. Anyway, after I got wind of what the Gold Cloaks were doing, I knew I had to get out of King’s Landing. I was planning on riding with the Night’s Watch, to the wall, but Beric found me first. Snuck me out of the city and I’ve been running with the Brotherhood ever since.”

“Do they know who you are?”

Gendry shook his head, “I think Beric knows, but if he does he hasn’t shared the information to the rest of them.”

Arya shivered as the memories of fleeing the capital creeped into her mind. It had been nearly seven years, and the events seems as if they happened just the day before. She was grateful that she didn’t have to witness her father’s demise, but it nearly cost her life. If it weren’t for Yoren cutting of her hair and telling her to run, she probably would have ended up dead.

“I was supposed to ride with the Night’s Watch as well.” She suddenly remembers. “Yoren, told me to meet him at the city gates, but I couldn’t make it in time before they shut them. I ended up sneaking out the city through the waterways around the Red Keep. By the time I got to where I thought the Yoren would be, he was gone and I was alone.”

Gendry pulled her close then, giving her a comfort she didn’t realized her craved. It had been difficult to discuss her past, up to when her father was beheaded. She had kept her memories of the horrid day locked away, so that she could focus on trying to survive. If she had let her emotions cloud her judgement, then she was sure to end up dead.

As she laid there in Gendry’s arms, she took the time to piece the events of that day together. She had been missing so many links as to why her father was executed, but with Gendry’s new details she was able to come to the conclusion that her father knew too much of a bad thing.

Her main priority; her reason for surviving for so long, was to get revenge on those that wronged her family. She wanted to see Joffrey’s and Cersei’s heads roll, just like her fathers. But she never seemed to get close enough. Never had a plan to thwart their reign. But as she laid there, entangled in the limbs of the man that she loved, she realized that he was the key to what she wanted.

“Gendry!” She pulled herself from his arms, sitting up to look down at his lying form. She didn’t care that her body was full exposed; he had already explored nearly every inch of her. There was a gleam in her eyes and an idea populating in her head, so absolutely brilliant, that it could actually work. “We can take the Iron Thorne.”

“Come again?” His brows crinkled in confusion.

“Well, more like you could take the Iron Throne. Think about it, if Joffrey executed all of Robert’s bastards, then you’d be the only one left. You have a claim! If we can prove that Joffrey Baratheon isn’t a Baratheon at all, then we could save hundreds of thousands from his evil reign.”

Gendry let out a curt laugh, “Arya, are you hearing yourself right now? The plan sounds absolutely mental! I don’t want the Iron Throne! I don’t want to be king!”

Arya shook her head, “You see, that’s the beauty of it, you don’t have to be. All we have to do is plant doubt, enough so that the Citadel would have to look into it. There are people still loyal to Robert. If we tell them your his rightful son, then a rebellion could start in their very streets. Once Joffrey is dethroned, we can then talk about who would be best suited to rule. We wouldn’t have to run anymore and I could get my sister back.”

There was silence as Arya watched Gendry take in her plan. It did sound ludicrous, but perhaps so much so, that it could actually work.

“Okay. I think...I think it could work. But we have to tell The Brotherhood.”

“Tell The Brotherhood what?”

Both Arya and Gendry snapped their heads to the shed door, as Beric and the others stood over them.

“You two have some explaining to do.”


	10. An Awkward Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Gendry prepare to have an awkward conversation in light of the Brotherhood's recent revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is...interesting. I feel like it's more a filler chapter to help set the end of this WIP in motion, because as much as I hate to say it, we are nearing the end of this story. We literally have just the plan to take place and tying up some loose ends before I close this story out. When I first started it, I hadn't expected it to take off as it did, but I am so happy that it did. I truly to enjoy writing this WIP and will be saddened when I does finally end. As some may have noticed, I also added my final Chapter count...although that it subject to change to fewer than the 15 I have given myself. Anyway, enough of me rambling...enjoy this chapter!

This was perhaps the most embarrassing moment in Arya’s life; and she had gone through a lot of embarrassing things in her nearly eighteen years of life. But the Brotherhood walking in on her naked, with an equally Naked Gendry, cuddled together in a small cot, won the coveted spot. She knew there was a probability of them entering the small shack while she and Gendry were enthralled in rather risqué activities, but the reality of that happening, at least in her mind, was slim.

Of course, she was proven wrong as a visibly upset Beric stood at the narrow entrance, with a blushing Hot Pie, a snickering Lem and an oblivious Thoros nipping at his back.

“Men,” Beric piped from the doorway, “Let’s give them some privacy while they dress, shall we? The interrogation can come later.”

Arya watched as he threw the door close, catching a brief glimpse as he smacked Lem across the head for what was sure to be a snarky remark about the current situation. The door shut with a resounding slam, causing Arya to flinch at the echoing sound. Her cheeks burned crimson as the rush of embarrassment continued to flame violently. She dared a glance in Gendry’s direction and noticed that, he too, was blushing like an untouched maid.

It made her giggle; a way to diffuse the tension that was quickly gathering in the small shack. Gendry let out his own forced laugh as the pair began to dress their exposed bodies, with nothing but the deafening silence to keep them company.

They took their time dressing, each handing the other their respective garments with some hesitation. Their hostility was not geared towards each other, but rather the impending hailstorm that was about to rain down on their seemingly perfect night. Because that what it was…perfect.

Arya had no regrets when it came to her coupling, she only wished they had pulled away sooner, before the Brotherhood had arrived so that they could revel in their shared memories together without the other members knowing. She wanted it to be something that only her and Gendry shared, not for Lem to tease about or Hot Pie to brood over, but a sweet memory for she and Gendry to smile over.

Now the whole fucking brotherhood knew, and she would have to explain their awkward situation.

Arya dreaded the impending conversation, for she was sure it was to be filled with nothing but uncomfortable stares and glances. It was funny really, that the sight of large men with swords swinging her way did nothing to fear her, but the conversation she was about to have with Beric, and the others completely terrified her.

She knew that she and Gendry really didn’t have to explain themselves. She could let the Brotherhood think of what they may, and she wouldn’t have cared less. But she saw the uneasiness on Gendry’s eyes. She could only imagine what was running through his mind.

Before they exited the small shack, she took hold of his hand, squeezing in gently, “You alright?”

“Hmm,” he nodded, “Just wonderin’ what that lot is thinking.”

“Well, I’m sure Lem is snickering like the rat he is, and poor Hot Pie is probably trying to erase the memory from his mind.” She said with a snort. 

Gendry let out a deep sigh, “That’s not what I mean. What if they think I took advantage of you?”

Arya’s gaze softened as she realized Gendry’s true worries. With a small smile, she tugged at his hand and pulled him into her small embrace. She had to stand on her tips of her toes just to reach her arms around his neck.

“Then we will them the truth.” She whispered into his ear. Arya felt him stiffen as he slightly pulled back from her clasped arms, “You’re certain? We-you don’t have to.”

Arya nodded her head fiercely, “I want to. They are the closest thing to family that we have. If we can’t trust them, then who can we trust? Besides, I think Beric knows you would never do anything to a lady.”

She sneered at that last bit, garnering a throaty laugh from Gendry. Arya gave him a quick peck before releasing her hold on him and taking his hand into hers once more. Together they exited the shack, prepared for whatever the Gods wanted to throw their way.

She was expecting the whole lot of them to be musing about the outside of the shack, but only Beric and Thoros remained, leaning themselves upon the rotting side wood. Arya noticed the soft pinks that encompassed the sky as she walked to where the men were standing. The sun had just risen above the horizon, casting dancing shadows of light purples and oranges across the sky.

She hadn’t realized it was so early when she and Gendry were conversing under the thin sheets, but then again, she didn’t really remember sleeping the night before either. The ache in between her legs reminded her of that.

She half expected the sun to be gleaming over them, casting its rays from the middle of the sky, but instead was greeted with the soft breeze of a new morning.

“Took you two long enough.” Beric pushed himself from the side of the shack, striding to meet them half-way. Thoros was silent as he followed behind Beric, chewing on a piece of straw in silent contemplation.

“Beric, we can explain-” Arya began to say, but was quickly interrupted by Beric’s hand rising to stop her from going any further.

“I don’t need, nor want, your explanation. The only thing I ask, my lady, is…was it what you wanted?” 

Arya blushed as his implications but stood tall and proud as she said a study, “Yes.”

“Then there is nothing to left to discuss on that matter.” Beric shrugged.

Arya watched as Gendry suddenly relaxed, his shoulders dropping the tension he was just carrying. It was a relief to them both that they did not have to explain themselves as to what they were participating in just a few short hours ago.

“That’s great, Beric. Now, Gendry and I are ravenous, as you can imagine, and I can smell Helena’s cooking all the way from over here. We will see you at the big house.” Arya quickly pulled on Gendry’s hand, trying to drag him away before another conversation could take place, but her efforts were moot, as Thoros swiftly stepped in front of her, blocking her path to escape.

“I said there was nothing left to discuss on _that_ matter, not that we didn’t have anything to discuss. I heard your plan, my lady, and although it sounds brilliant, it a fucking suicide mission. The moment Joffrey catches wind that Gendry is back in King’s Landing, there will be Gold Cloaks so far up our arses that we won’t be able to shit for days!”

“But Beric-” Arya tried to reason with the old lord, but he was quick tongued.

“Do you know how bloody hard it was getting him out of the city the first time? It’s going to be near bloody impossible to do it a second time. By the Gods, if I didn’t trust in The Lord of Light, I would have axed this plan the moment it came out of that mouth of yours.”

Arya’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You’ll help us?”

“Of course, we are going to help you. Thoros seeked the guidance of The Lord of Light and was told that the plan would work. To what extent, I’ve no idea, but some form of it will work.”

Gendry turned his gaze of Thoros, looking for any indication from the old prophet. All he did was grin and nodded.

“Now, care to elaborate this plan, that is sure to get us all killed?”


	11. A Plan in Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya divulges her plan to the Brotherhood and Gendry has some apprehensions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOOO....
> 
> I know and realize that it's been six months since I've updated this WIP and I AM SORRY!!!! Truly, I am. Life has just been a mess in general and then my mind went to other story ideas and yeah...BUT I have updated! And I was planning on taking a writing hiatus, but I've realized that I literally cannot live without doing it, sooooo....STRAP IN BITCHES, BECAUSE WE ARE GOING ON A ROLLERCOSTER RIDE. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy this update!!

The group had gathered around Helena’s small table, shoving down bowls of porridge. Arya was rather ravenous, considering her activities a few short hours ago. Just thinking about her night with Gendry made her blush. Of course, her crimson cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. Lem was snickering from across the table and all Arya could do was scowl.

Gendry was eating in silence, like the rest of The Brotherhood, but Arya noticed they way he would steal glances her way, a shade of pink on his own cheeks.

Beric had said nothing else on the matter of them laying together. He was more interested in the plan Arya had concocted while still in Gendry’s arms. It was ludicrous plan, one that would surely get them all killed, but who would Arya be if she didn’t at least try?

Ture, Gendry was taking the bulk of this plan, putting himself into direct danger, but he had agreed to it. There was no hesitation, no fault in his words as he pledged to help Arya dethrone the Lannister’s.

She was desperate, that much was true. With the opportunity to get her sister back and take back Westeros, she wasn’t going to let it slip through her hands. Not when she thought she was truly alone in the world. Of course she had Gendry and they had pledged to be each other’s family, but she craved her blood.

_The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. _

Her father would speak those words often, mostly to quench whatever quarrel she and Sansa had gotten into. He made sure to remind them all that family was the most important thing to survive. If even the smallest flame of hope remained in a dying hearth, then one should seize it, and that was what Arya was going to do.

But she had to be mindful.

Gendry was her family now, and even the rowdy band of men had seeped themselves into her heart. She had to protect them too, no matter the cost.

“So, what is this plan Arry claims could work?” Lem coughed as he finished his third bowl of porridge. Helena looked at him oddly, wholly perplexed as to how he could finish three bowls clean of the hot goop.

Arya set her own bowl aside, her belly full, with half the contents of her bowl still remaining. “In theory…we get word to the citadel that Gendry is the rightful heir to the throne. Somehow prove that Joffrey Baratheon isn’t the true born son of Robert.”

“The citadel is in Old Town, on the other side of Westeros! How the bloody hells do you plan to get them word?” Lem countered. “We can’t exactly send ravens. I heard that birds are being shot out of the sky for fear of an uprising.”

Arya sighed and began to rub her temples. She never said her plan was foolproof, just that it could work. Yes, Lem was right, the citadel was on the other side of Westeros. Even if they managed to ride fast and strong, there was high chance that it could be too late by the time they get there. Not to mention the gold cloaks Cersei had dispatched around Westeros.

When Arya was running from The Brotherhood, she had to make sure to keep her distance from the Gold Cloaks. She hadn’t thought that they would be that far into the Riverlands. She was near Riverrun, of course, and to make sure her own family didn’t find her. Yet, it was her surprise to see marching Gold Cloaks rather than Tully men.

They could obtain witnesses to present to the Citadel. If enough gathered, it could create enough doubt that they would have no choice but to take the accusations seriously. But most of those witnesses were probably dead, no doubt on the same day her father’s head rolled.

No, the best course of action was to take it to the people of Westeros. Convince them that Joffrey is not the true king, and that Robert’s bastards has a better claim. She was sure that most of the common folk cared not for the Lannister’s. They took what they with little consequence. Arya saw how the Gold Cloaks treated farmers and merchants and families just trying to get by. It was cruel and horrid.

There were times she wanted nothing more than to intervene and pierce them with Needle, but she would risk exposure, and that was something she could not test fate.

The Lannister’s needed to pay, and this was how it was going to happen.

Gather enough common folk to create an uprising. Have the people dethrone their monarch. Convince them that Gendry was the true heir.

“We take it to the people. I’m sure there are common folk and lesser lords that still remain loyal to the Baratheon’s. Once they see that it’s Lannister scum that is ruling Westeros, they will have no choice but the back our claim.” Arya said. “Robert fucked his way across half of Westeros; he’s been seen. Once people see Gendry they will have to believe that he is one of Robert’s.”

“The girl has a point.” Thoros chimed from where he was sitting in the corner. The Red priest had been mum on the subject, only now twitching his ear to listen. “He looks exactly like Robert did at that age. Not to mention, he favors Renley. One could think they were twins, if the poor bloke was still alive.”

“It’s a risky plan and we could all wind up dead, but if the Lord of Light believes this is the way, then The Brotherhood will stand by you, little lady.” Beric gives Arya a wink before taking a swing of ale.

“The Lord of Light?” Arya asked, a bit perplexed.

Thoros hums, “I’ve seen it in the flames, the bastard boy on top of the Iron Throne. It is the way of the Lord.”

Arya scoffs, “I don’t believe in whatever gods you do, but if it means you’ll help.”

“So, what you’re saying is that we will all end up dead?” Lem huffs.

Gendry finally shifts from his chair, the only indication that he was listening at all, “It seems that way, Lem.”

He pushes from his chair and stocks off towards the door of Helena and Harry’s small home, slamming it as he walks outside into the cool sunrise.

Arya only give a small smile, thanking Helena for the meal before following Gendry outside. He was packing in the tall grass with his hands on his hips and his face deep in thought. She knew that it couldn’t be easy for him; he was going from lowborn bastard to claiming he is the rightful heir to the throne. It had to be a lot to take in, for anyone, especially someone like Gendry.

“You alright?” She asked cautiously. Arya had only ever seen the bull in him charge, this calm state he was in terrified her. She wasn’t sure if he would blow up or silently implode, and that’s what worried her.

Gendry gave a curt nod, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

A sigh escaped Gendry’s lips as he stocked to where Arya was standing. He stood a few feet from her, his body towering over hers. “It’s a lot. I know I said I would help you, and I will, it’s just a lot.”

Arya closed the distance between them, encircling her arms around his waist and burying her head into his chest. She felt as he moved his arms to embrace her, pulling her close to his body. She could hear his heartbeat as she leaned in closer. It thudded against his ribcage, pounding to the rhythm of her breaths.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything.” Her voice came out muffled from being pressed to Gendry’s chest. “It’s just…I want-no I need my sister back. I need to have-”

“You need your family. I get it.” Gendry said flatly. His feelings were hurt, Arya could tell, and she scrambled to assure him that nothing would change.

She slightly pulled from his embrace so she could look him in his blue eyes. There was hurt in those irises and her heart screamed at the thought of hurting him. “Gendry, what I said…when were…I meant it. You are my family now, but Sansa is also my family and I have to do everything I can to get her back.”

Gendry scoffed as he pulled from their embrace. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting out an uneven breath as he did so. “And what after we get your sister back or when the Lannister’s are gone? What then? What happens to us? I don’t want to be bloody king! And let’s not talk about what happens when your sister, who is older than you, finds out that I’ve taken your maidenhead! I’ll be bloody flogged and lynched like some rapist!”

Arya’s cheeks burned with anger. The things he was saying were ludicrous. To think that she would ever let anything like that happen to him was disheartening. “I would never let that happen! My sister, nor anyone in this bloody world, has a say on who I fuck! And I know you don’t want to be king! When the time comes, you will abdicate the throne, let some old miserable fuck take over. Then you and I and Sansa can back to Winterfell and take back our home.”

“Winterfell isn’t my home, it’s yours.”

Arya took a sharp breath at his words. “It won’t be if you’re not there.”

“And what about the brotherhood?” Gendry dodged.

“What about them? They can come to Winterfell too!”

“They don’t stay in one place. They will never stay in Winterfell.”

“Then let them leave!”

“And what if I go with them?”

“Then I…” Arya knew her answer. She’d known since their conversation about his mother. Gendry was forever her family and she would never leave him. “I will come with you.”

Gendry halted in his paces and he whipped towards Arya. His face was that of surprise and perhaps a little relief. “You’ll…come with me?”

Arya let out a heavy sigh and walked back to where Gendry was standing. She takes a hold of his hands and grasp them within hers. “I will follow you anywhere. If you don’t want to stay in Winterfell, then we will leave. We will travel Westeros or take a ship and go to Essos. If you want to stay with The Brotherhood, then we will stay with The Brotherhood. You’re it for me, Gendry. I just need to make sure my sister is safe first.”

Gendry brought of their clasped hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “We will get your sister back and your home, I promise.”

Arya smiled and pulled Gendry down for a kiss, capturing his lips with ease.

The stood in the tall grass, their lips moving in sync with one another, completely oblivious to the world around them. It was a moment that Arya would make sure to remember, because their world, from then on out, would be filled with war and death. She knew that there was a high chance that most of their group would not live to see Joffrey Baratheon beheaded, but she hoped they would.

As the sunrise behind crested in the sky, Arya knew nothing but that moment with Gendry. He was her family and she was his. They were forever bound and where he went she vowed to follow.

But first, they needed to see Joffrey’s head roll.


End file.
